Stockholm Syndrome (L.S. Mpreg) Completed.

Chapter 11

~*~Chapter 11~*~

WARNING: TIME SKIP AGAIN, SORRY.

AND THIS IS COMING TO AN END. NOT MANY CHAPTERS LEFT! :(

I LOVE YOU ALL!

THANK YOU ALL FOR READING THIS.

 

Two Years later

 

“Where we go, muh?” Adam asked Harry as he sat in the back of Harry’s SUV, in his little carseat. They were leaving Harry’s parents’ house, and the house that the twins had grown up in. They had just left their birthday party, they had turned two. And, yes, Harry cried. A lot. Then they had packed the SUV full of their things and Harry drove off.

Harry looked back at the two babies in the backseat of the SUV. They weren’t babies anymore, they were toddlers.

“Yeah! Where go?” Sylvia asked her mother, Harry.

Harry felt as if he deserved the title as a ‘mother’. He did carry these babies for over thirty six weeks.

Harry just sighed. The twins were trying, of course. But, no matter what Harry did, he couldn’t get them to speak a bit more properly.

“Where are we going?” Harry corrected. “And we are going to go find someone.” The nineteen year old told the two two year old’s.

It had been two and a half long years without his husband, and Harry missed him dearly.

Harry hasn’t heard much of anything about Louis. His mother had found out that he was looking up things about his kidnapper and she set a bunch of parental settings on everything. Harry knew that his parents were being protective, but blocking every single news channel and site, even YouTube and any and every social media site, was going a bit too far in Harry’s opinion.

Thankfully, Harry was able to get a job and get some money for him and his babies to go off and find Louis, who Harry hoped was still at that Amish community.

“Who?” Sylvia asked, holding up one of her little dolls that she had been given from her granny Anne. Adam had a similar doll.

“An old friend of mummy’s.” Harry explained as he turned on the radio, letting the song quietly fill the car.

“Dollies!” Adam exclaimed, holding up his doll. Harry looked up at the rear view mirror of the SUV and smiled.

“Yes, baby. That is a dollie.” Harry laughed.

Harry’s mother absolutely hated how Harry was raising his children. He wasn’t forcing a gender on his kids like his parents forced on him. Adam liked to wear pink, even when he was a young baby, he liked pink. He and his sister were dressed in similar outfits almost all of the time. Today was no exception to that.

Harry didn’t mind that his son was feminine and preferred pink over blue, skirts over pants, dolls over cars, glitter over plain.

Adam was Adam, Sylvia was Sylvia. The kids were themselves.

Adam was much like Harry in many ways, they were so similar and it was scary. Adam was going to make a good husband and mother, or father, one day, just as Sylvia was going to make a good wife and mother one day. Not one day soon, though. Years from now, like, when they were thirty. Or older.

“Dah dollie.” Sylvia laughed, holding up a male doll. From the glance that Harry had done, it looked like it was a Ken doll in his little girl’s hand.